


a moment's silence

by Ejunkiet



Series: The Ember Days [2]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Modern Era, Romance, Threesome - F/F/M, a return to the chalet after three centuries, romance and the art of longing, the detective has two hands, the slow burn is officially over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-28 21:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30146031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet
Summary: The gentle seduction of Nathaniel Sewell.--“For you,” he looks at Dinah, watching the gentle way the flickering shadows play across her features, her eyes dark and glittering in the candle light, before his gaze slides to Ava. There are centuries between them, lifetimes of shared moments and memories, of trust and friendship and loyalty. “Anything.”
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain, Female Detective/Ava du Mortain/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell, Female Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Series: The Ember Days [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936339
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31
Collections: The Ember Days





	a moment's silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evil_bunny_king](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_bunny_king/gifts).



> **Foreword**
> 
> In the 1730s, Nathaniel Sewell (as he was then) finds a pair of displaced travellers on his doorstep: one that he knows, and another that he will come to know, many years in the future. 
> 
> It’s been nearly three centuries since that summer, and the memories of the time they’d spent in the alps feel almost like a dream. On a late summer night, Ava and Dinah conspire to prove to him otherwise.
> 
> \--
> 
> This is a gift for the incredible @evilbunnyking, who suckered me into writing for twc in the first place. bless you. this has two parts, the second of which is the reason for the rating. thank you for enamouring me with this thruple, please enjoy the smut.

It starts with dinner and fine wine, shared under flickering candlelight. It starts with a gentle conversation, shared memories and fond smiles, lingering glances and soft touches, an unvoiced question that leads to an answer.

It starts in Lauterbrunnen, a place Nathaniel has not called home in over three centuries.

It has taken them several flights and a long journey by road to reach this place, Ava expertly navigating the winding roads in the little car they’d picked up in Bern (a bottle-green ‘69 Jaguar, or a ‘classic’ as Ava had stated as she claimed the front seat), but even with the obvious signs, it’s only when they’ve reached the valley itself that Nate recognises this for what it is.

His breath catches. “No, it - it can’t be. The avalanche, it-”

“Destroyed the original property, yes.” There is a smug twist to Ava’s lips when he meets her gaze, her green eyes steady and glittering in the sunlight. “I had it rebuilt.”

He can see that. His eyes trace the familiar eaves, the balcony, the small windows - crafted in the fashion he remembers from his younger years, the glass coloured and bottle-thick - and his heart leaps within his chest, settling in his throat.

“It’s incredible,” comes a soft voice from behind him, and there’s a soft sheen to Dinah’s gaze as she leans back against the small convertible. She takes in the small wooden building and the overgrown meadow that surrounds it, the grasses high enough to reach her waist. “It’s as if nothing has changed.”

She hasn't, at least - but then again, it has only been a handful of months for her - a year hasn’t even passed since they’d disappeared from the past and reappeared in the present.

A few months for her, several centuries for him.

(He’d almost thought it was a dream.)

There’s a soft sound at his side, before Ava’s hand finds his shoulder, gentle and steady, and when he looks at her, her gaze is filled with an understanding that he’s unable to voice. 

“Come inside. There is more I want to show you.”

\--

His impression of the interior is very much the same as the outside, the familiarity of the space sticking between his teeth, all too sweet - like honey and sugar, almost overwhelming. The air is heavy with the scent of old books and varnish, faint vanilla undercut with woodsmoke and wax, a memory of a fire. 

It doesn’t take long for them to settle - Ava had sent most of their luggage in advance, although she’d kept the destination a secret - and the chalet itself has been prepared for their arrival, fresh candles placed on the tables, bundles of firewood by the fireplace. 

The water is clear and tastes of the mountains, warming quickly under his hands, and the inclusion of modern plumbing is something Nate is keenly grateful for, the heat of it helping ease the lingering tension in his limbs, cramped from the journey and multiple modes of travel.

Afterwards, smelling sweetly of honey and beeswax, they come together for the evening meal, flickering candle light lightening darkening rooms.

He can’t help but laugh when Ava opens a wax package that had been delivered from the village (now a bustling town) a short distance away and it contains only cheese and _saucisson_ \- “as was your preference,” she reminds him, the gleam in her eye betraying her teasing.

("But what will we have it with?"

Opening a cabinet with cleverly hidden seams, Ava presents him with a bottle: a _Château Lafite_ , of a vintage that he had thought lost, the label faded, obscured by travel and time.

"There's a full case," she adds, her eyes gleaming, the smug tilt to her smile growing as he takes the bottle from her and examines it for himself.)

It's only later, when they’re flush from wine and good conversation, that he finally asks the question that has been lingering at the back of his mind since they’d first arrived.

"Why did you bring me here?"

There's a lull in the conversation at the question. The air is heavy, filled with the familiar smell of soot and wax, the candles burning low - and they’ll need to be changed soon, before they’re plunged into darkness.

"To have a conversation," Ava begins, her voice soft in the quiet. She doesn’t continue.

There's a - hesitancy about her, that he’s not used to seeing. Uncertainty is a rare look on Ava du Mortain. Dinah clears her throat, leaning forward slightly, hand reaching across the table - as if to take his.

“We wanted you - to join us.” 

He takes her hand in his, meeting her gaze, dark and liquid in the flickering candle light. There’s a gleam there, her cheeks flushed with the wine - or maybe something else.

There’s - something here, something familiar - he can feel it from both of them, in that way that he’s always been able to. An inescapable pull that sends heat rising to his own skin, the pace of his heart doubling - and _oh._

His breath catches as he understands her meaning, what they’re proposing.

He has to swallow several times before he can speak. “You mean -”

“Yes,” Ava intercedes, impatience bordering on her tone, but there’s softness in her gaze when he looks at her, a hint of a blush staining her cheeks. “If you would care to.”

“If it’s not too much to ask,” Dinah adds on a breath, a brilliant smile on her lips when he meets her gaze - but he can see the uncertainty beneath it, concern shining in her gaze.

It’s - it’s an impossible offer. It’s an impossible offer, but he can’t deny that it’s something he has thought about over the centuries - in dreams, and in private, the _almost_ they’d shared that summer.

"Ava," he begins, but doesn't continue - he can't find the words for what he wants to ask, wants to say.

She reaches out to take his other hand then, her grip steadying, squeezing gently. An assurance. 

There's a catch in his breath, a swelling of feeling within his breast. His heart is a thundering thing, beating a harsh staccato within the confines of his ribcage.

It could be the combined effects of the altitude and the wine that has been steadily been working its way around his system - or the company itself - but he can’t find it within himself to deny her. To put it simply, he doesn’t want to.

“For you,” he looks at Dinah, the gentle way the flickering shadows play across her features, her eyes dark and glittering in the candle light, before his gaze slides to Ava. There are centuries between them, lifetimes of shared moments and memories, of trust and friendship and loyalty. _“_ Anything _.”_

\--

The wind gives a vicious howl as it makes its way through the trees outside, sending the thick glass panes quivering in their frames - and this weather is fitting when the ground feels so unsteady underfoot.

It’s the aftermath of the late summer storm that had rocked the valley shortly after they'd arrived and it’s a familiar sound, evoking memories of similar storms, many centuries ago.

He knows, intellectually, that the chalet itself was rebuilt, but he finds that hard to believe in the face of what he sees here, even if he had been witness to the destruction of the building that had come before it. 

The architects have paid remarkable attention to detail - and he allows himself a smile as he thinks of Ava hunched over pages of designs and sketches, her neat, tightly controlled handwriting littering the margins as she strives for complete precision and accuracy.

It had all led to this moment, he realises, on the threshold of their old rooms where a generously sized bed takes up a sizable proportion of the space, the sheets clean and carefully chosen.

The memories of this place, these rooms, bring such a swell of emotion that he has to take a moment, hand perched against the frame of the door, swaying as he remembers - 

_\- long nights spent in front of the fire, huddled beneath frayed woollen blankets, Ava’s thumb on his ankle, smooth pressure over the bone. Shared dinners in the dining room, charcuterie and wine, gentle conversation over flickering candlelight._

_The soft curl of Dinah’s laughter, free and unrestrained, the brilliant gleam of her smile._

A soft touch brings him back into the moment, a gentle brush of fingertips against his arm that leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and he opens his eyes to see that Dinah is watching him, her features soft in the low light.

Her voice is barely more than a whisper when she asks, “Is this okay?”

Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and swallowing the iris, her cheeks flush with the wine, but still, she hesitates, lingering a step or two back as she waits for his answer.

"More than okay,” he says, reaching out to cup her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin in his palm and beneath his thumb as he curves it over the arc of her cheekbone. He can feel the flutter of her pulse beneath his touch, hear the rapid pace of her heart like a rabbit’s within her chest.

He can’t help but try her name again, feel the shape of it on his tongue. _“Dinah.”_

She looks at him then, her lips parted, breaths shallow, and he - he wants to think that what she needs at this moment is _him_ \- he wants it with an ache that tightens his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs.

(He has loved and he has _longed_ for years beyond count.)

When she finally brings her mouth to meet his, it’s as if everything falls into place.

He can taste the sweetness of cherry wine on her lips, the honey-gum of her lip balm. She sighs as his hand slips back into her hair, fingers tangling amidst her dark curls, and he’s convinced that he’d give her anything, if he could. _Everything_.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers against his mouth, a quick, heated thing, and _no_ , he wants to correct her, _I have missed you. I have dreamt of you, wished for you - your company, your laugh, your smile-_

There’s a gentle touch at his shoulder, drawing back the collar of his shirt as slow, steady fingers chase the curve of his spine, before a soft kiss is pressed against the nape of his neck. He shivers as Ava’s hand moves to his waist, tugging at the hem of his shirt until it pulls free from his jeans.

Breaking from the kiss, he lets out a shuddering breath as she draws the material over his head.

Ava presses another soft kiss against his bare shoulder, against the mark she knows lies there just beneath the skin, faded almost beyond recognition, and another shiver rolls through him, catching the breath in his lungs. She’s a line of heat against him, warm and solid even in passing as she moves to draw back - and he reaches out to catch her arm, drawing her back to him.

“Ava.”

Her eyes are clear and piercing, flecks of emerald and jade, but they soften as he takes her hand in his own, the other raising to cup her cheek. She’s a creature of steel and resolve, and yet under his touch she bends, yielding, her eyelids fluttering shut as he draws the pad of his thumb over the curve of her lower lip. He kisses her, then, gently, and it's almost a question, a plea - _stay with me_.

She is the most important relationship in his long life - he can't do this without her.

She returns the kiss, slowly at first, but quick to warm, chasing his mouth when they part for breath, heated pants filling the space between them. Her cheeks are flushed and she tastes like wine, the deep, bitter tannins she prefers, edged with a sharpness that comes from a millennia of self restraint and tight control.

"I need you," he murmurs against her cheek, putting his unspoken request into words, before he pulls back, catching Dinah’s gaze, noting the way her eyes have darkened, the rapid fluttering of her pulse. "Both of you."

Ava presses a tender kiss against his palm, slow and lingering, and he can feel the curve of her smile. “You have us.”

Gently breaking away from his grip, she moves to slot into place behind him. Her hands are gentle as they trace along his sides, the length of his ribs, settling at his hips as she presses another long, lingering kiss to the space between his shoulder blades. 

He swallows as another pair of hands settle against his chest, trailing through the dark hair scattered there, her nails tracing light patterns as they trail down his sides. She follows these gentle touches with another kiss, soft and feather light against his clavicle, and the heat between them builds, curling in his gut, until-

He can’t wait any longer.

His hands snake forward until he can draw Dinah back into an embrace, capturing her mouth in another kiss, deeper this time, chasing the taste of her, cherries and honey, as his searching hands find skin, the softness of her waist. 

Dinah curves into him as his fingers find the buttons of her blouse, fumbling and careless as he tries to undo them. He's clumsy, like he's fresh from the naval yard, young and green and new, and Ava's soft, rolling laughter fills the space between then, her hands leaving him as she moves to help.

Her dark eyes glittering in the half light, she assesses the situation before coming to a decision. Gripping the blouse tightly in her fist, she gives a sharp tug, sending the remaining buttons ricocheting across the room.

Dinah breaks away from the kiss with a breathless laugh, quickly followed by a narrowed glare as her hand whips back to thump against Ava’s abdomen, who huffs out an obliging _oof._ “ _I_ **_liked_ ** _that shirt.”_

“Let us make it up to you,” she murmurs back, her mouth against her ear as she catches Nate's eye, and Dinah shivers as Ava’s hand curls against her stomach, her fingers splaying there as she presses a lingering kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear. 

Ava's eyes are dark and glittering as she holds his gaze, a challenge in the quirk of her lips. It's an invitation Nate can’t ignore, pressing forward once more to capture Dinah's mouth again as his hands find the gentle curve of her waist, palms seeking warm skin.

She’s soft and sweet against his tongue, yielding beneath his hands as he maps the planes of her, nails tracing along gentle curves, the outline of her ribs, settling beneath the delicate lace of her bra.

Thumbing at the edge, he glances up to catch her gaze, enjoying the flush of her cheeks. “It’s almost as if you planned for this.”

Ava laughs, moving back to remove her own shirt, removing it with an efficiency that belies the vulnerability behind the action, the long, lean lines of her tense as she straightens. She takes a breath, running a hand along her hair, smoothing down the errant strands that have escaped her tight bun. 

After a moment’s thought, she removes the hair tie, releasing the long, golden coils of her hair, and his breath escapes him at the sight.

She’s beautiful like this - open in a way he's seen only a handful of times over the centuries, her pale cheeks flushed with the faintest hint of pink as she averts her gaze, taking in the room around them.

“There is a bed," she comments, amusement lingering in her tone and in her smile when she looks back at them, and her green eyes are bright, blazing in the flickering light. "Shall we use it?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & kudos greatly appreciated, find me on tumblr (ejunkiet) & chat with me about wayhaven! :D


End file.
